The Flame in the Mist (40 page)

“The Releasing Rime of Saeweldar,” she read. “
Bal sorl heerd hel vitaepi nicet … Lyre easeth ben bedows foure het
. Bal sorl … Robs all? Slob lar?” Too agitated to concentrate, she tossed the book onto the bed, then lay down and tried to relax. Breathe. That was no use, so she stood and walked in small circles. First clockwise. Then reversed. Then clockwise again. At last ten o’clock tolled, and she heard footsteps running from the covered yard. Lamplight approached, and two silhouettes stumbled into view.

Jemma’s heart leapt. “Digby, Gordo! Over here—behind you!”

“Jem!” Digby ran to her cell. “Look at you, locked up like this! Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes—but thank goodness you’re here! It seems like weeks since this morning.”

“I know. I been worried sick since Drudge told me the plan had changed. But now Pa’s arrived with the cart, I feel better. We’re ready— Oh my, Jem, what’s that you’re wearin’?”

“I know.” Jemma tugged at the thick black fabric of Shade’s old dress. “It’s vile.”

“Where’s my little ’uns?” Gordo walked up behind Digby, holding the lamp. “I want to see ’em!”

“Down the corridor,” Jemma said. “Second cell from the end. Please be quick though, Gordo, we can’t waste—”

Gordo was already gone.

“Me too,” said Digby. “Just be a mo’.” He ran after his father. Jemma paced nervously until they returned, just as Drudge shuffled in from his lamp-extinguishing rounds.

“Sleepin’ like angels, thanks be,” said Gordo. “Ah, Mr. Drudge, good evenin’ to you.”

“So,” said Digby, “the keys. With you locked up, Jem, who’s going to get ’em?”

“It’ll have to be you, Dig.”

“But I don’t know where Shade’s room is! Can’t Drudge go?”

“He’d be too slow,” said Jemma. “But her room is easy to find. Just be careful not to wake her, though; she’s got the strength of an ogress.”

“Oh, nothin’ to it, then.” Digby attempted a grin.

“You’ll be fine, lad,” said Gordo, his voice trembling. “We’ll have ’em out of here in no time, just you see.” Digby set his mouth and nodded.

Jemma described how to find Shade’s room. Digby took a deep breath, then sped off. Gordo went to the door to the Pickle Corridor and shifted from foot to foot as he stood staring after Digby.

Drudge took Jemma’s hands. Calm washed through her as once again, blue light flickered around him. This time, it was undeniable.

“Ligh game,” he said. “See boy … Make sssafe.”

“Is there anything you don’t know, Drudge?” said Jemma. “You’re amazing!” She closed her eyes, and saw the vision that
was running through Drudge’s head. Together, they projected a protective sphere of Light around Digby as he ran, lamp in hand, through the hall, up the main stairway to the Bed-Chamber level—avoiding the third and seventh steps, which creaked—and rounded the corner to the West Corridor. He crept along it until he was outside Shade’s room, then slowly turned the handle and eased the door open.

“Wait—his lamplight will wake her!” Jemma opened her eyes. Drudge was deep in concentration. Suddenly his mouth fell and his body started twitching.

“Gnnn … gnaaaa,” he wheezed, gripping Jemma’s hands. “Ssstop!”

“What? What’s happening?” Jemma closed her eyes again, and suddenly she saw it too: Digby, his hand over his face, retching at the stench of rotting flesh … tripping over a leg protruding from under Shade’s bed … dropping his lamp … Shade, waking. Jemma frantically envisioned the light sphere around Digby again and tried to strengthen it, but Shade leapt into full swing, lashing out at him, screaming, forcing him back into the corridor as Nox, Feo, and Nocturna rushed into the fray. Nox grabbed Digby by his collar. Feo picked up Digby’s lamp, and the whole family marched toward the stairs, while Digby, still retching, struggled in their grasp.

“Oh, no!” Jemma gasped. “It’s my fault! I stopped concentrating on the Light!”

“Shshshsgnnnnaaa!” Drudge opened his eyes and pulled his hands from hers. The calm blue around him fragmented, and disappeared.

“What is it?” Gordo trotted over. “What’s happening?”

“They’ve caught him—they’ve caught Digby!”

Voices were rapidly approaching.

“Gordo,” said Jemma, “you must hide.”

“But, my boy—”

“Quickly, Gordo! Go with Drudge—and stay out of sight, or they’ll capture you, too!”

“Book. Stone,” said Drudge. “Give.”

Jemma grabbed Majem’s book from the pallet and handed it to him with her amulet. Then, remembering Bethany’s coin, she dug that from her pocket too, just in case, and pressed it into Drudge’s palm. He scuttled across the kitchen, Gordo in tow, and slipped into the scullery.

“If you don’t talk, boy, you’ll regret it.” Nocturna’s voice cut through the darkness.

“I tell you, Mama, he’s in league with Jemma! He’s exuding guilt like steam off a dungheap. They’ve probably been plotting to free those three miserable wretches—why else would he want to steal the keys in the middle of the night? That’s really why she came back, I’d wager!”

“You can’t know that, Shade,” said Nox, but doubt edged his voice.

Jemma threw herself onto her pallet and closed her eyes tight. Every nerve in her body jangled.

Something slammed against her cell door.

“Wakey wakey, Jem
-mah
,” said Shade. “We’ve brought someone to see you.”

Jemma opened her eyes. Digby was pressed against the bars, his arms held behind his back by Nox. A large bruise was spreading across one cheek.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jemma tried to feign
indignance as she stood, and pulled herself tall, but Digby’s bruise tugged at her heart.

“You tell us, Jem
-mah
,” Shade growled. “You know this creature, I believe?”

Nox’s face flickered between hope and anger.

“He … Haze … Hazebury dross …” The words barely croaked past Jemma’s throat.

“Very convincing, I’m sure,” Shade sneered. “So, perhaps you’d like to be the one to punish him for trespassing?”

Jemma began to tremble, all pretense draining from her.

“I thought not. Then I shall have to.” Shade grabbed the back of Digby’s hair, wrenched his face around, and gashed his bruised cheek with her nails. He yelled out in pain.

“No!” Jemma lurched instinctively toward him.

“Finally, we have the truth!” said Shade. “Mama, Papa, you must agree with me now. Why, those were probably his disgusting hand-me-downs she was wearing yesterday!”

“Jemma—you wretched girl!” said Nox, through gritted teeth. “You deceived me!” He tightened his grip on Digby and pinned him more firmly against the cold steel of her cell door.

“She deceived us all,” said Nocturna calmly. “Quite a feat, I must say.”

“Not I, Mama,” said Shade. “I tried to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, Jem.” Digby whispered, his bottom lip quivering. “I failed ’em … them poor little ’uns.…”

“You see?” Shade yelped. “I was right! How noble he is! Or is he? Perhaps he’s their big bwuvver, and being a good boy, rescuing them for Mama and Papa Gutbellows—”

“Shut up, Shade!” Jemma reached through the bars and laid her palm against Digby’s ravaged cheek. The bruise faded slightly with her touch. “Dig … it’s my fault, not yours.”

“No!” Feo, who until now had stood back in the shadows, took a step forward and wrenched Jemma’s hand away from Digby’s face. He shot a look of pure hatred at Digby, then turned away.

Bitter wrath spread across Nox’s face. “I gave you a second chance, Jemma,” he said. “I fought for you! But Shade was right—”

“We must search her, in case she’s hiding any kind of weapon!” said Shade. “Out of my way, Papa. Feo, hold the lamp higher, so we can see.”

Nox yanked Digby away. Shade unlocked the door, then she and Nocturna whipped through Jemma’s cell, turning over the straw on the pallet and strewing it across the floor. Shade pressed Jemma against the wall and rifled through her dress pockets.

“Nothing!” she hissed, then fingered Jemma’s throat. “Where’s your Stone? You were wearing it earlier—”

“It … I made it disappear, to protect it from you.”

“Lies, more lies!” Shade pulled on the neckline of her old dress, ripping it across one shoulder.

“Shade, Jemma’s Stone is of little consequence now,” said Nocturna. She waved an arm at Digby. “Go with your father to lock this treacherous ruffian in the dungeon at the end, next to our other visitors, so these two can’t communicate.”

“With pleasure, Mama.” Shade strutted out of Jemma’s cell, and Digby was dragged away. Nocturna turned to Jemma, her black eyes flecked green with regret.

“A commendable show, Jemma,” she said, “to have so artfully beguiled us. I admire you, really I do. You have always had a certain something about you, and it seems your new Gifts are indeed genuine. Such a pity they will go to waste.”

She stroked Jemma’s cheek, one corner of her mouth turned upward in a half-smile, then let her hand drop with a sigh. “Well, so be it. We shall at least be rid of the danger you pose to us. We shall decide your fate tomorrow, when our minds are fresh. Now, where’s my dear son?” Nocturna turned to where Feo was slouched against the opposite wall, the light from his lamp etching sharp shadows on his face. “Ah, there you are. Guard the door until your sister returns with the keys. I shall retire now for my beauty sleep. I bid you both good night.”

Nocturna walked out of the cell, glided away across the kitchen, and was gone.

Feo closed Jemma’s cell door and leaned against it with his back to her, arms crossed. Seconds later, Shade returned, closely followed by Nox, who walked past without a word. Shade rattled the keys at her waist and selected the brightest one. “You have all night to dwell on your demise, Jem
-mah
,” she said, locking the cell door. “Yours, and your precious sweetheart’s. Ha! We shall think of how best to dispose of you both after we’ve dealt with those other three brats. Come on, Feo, and stop trying to look so ferocious. It’s pathetic.”

Feo cast a sullen glance at Jemma, then followed his sister into the gloom.

Jemma clutched the bars of her cell and wept. In her mind’s eye, she could see Digby slumped against the back wall of the littlest dungeon, his ripped and bruised face set in pained disbelief. The triplets, in the cell next to him, were still as corpses under the effect of Slumber Potion. Her tears splattered to the floor.

“Jmmaaah … Shshshush.” Drudge was standing outside the door, holding Majem’s book in one hand and a stub of candle in the other. “Take!” He shoved the shabby volume at her. “Now!”

His vehemence surprised her, and she took the book.

“The Ligh … be …,” he said. “Sssay!”

“It’s no use, Drudge.” Jemma heaved a sigh. “I’m never going to get out of here.”

“Trusssst!” His voice was firmer than Jemma had ever heard it. “Now. The Ligh. Be.
Sssay
.”

“The Light be called.”

“Loud!” he said. “Mean it! Wordsss … have powerrr!”

“The Light be called!” Hope glimmered in her bones. “The Light be called, the Light be called!”

“Next … Sssay!”

“Scagavay, be gone now!”

Drudge rested his palm against her face. The glimmer of
hope expanded. “Trusssst, book,” he said, setting the candle stub on one of the cross-bars of her door. “Finisssh. Now! Thisss too. Take.” He pulled her Stone and Bethany’s gold coin from his breast pocket and handed them to her. “Me, go. Mussst, strongfff, tmorrrow.” He turned and slunk toward the scullery.

The book pulsed in her hand. “The Light be called,” she whispered, her hope growing more. Drudge was right: those words
did
seem to have power. Besides, as he said, it was better to trust than to be defeated by despair. Dropping her Stone and Bethany’s coin into her own pocket, she settled cross-legged on the pile of straw and flicked to the pages of music. The Forgotten Song. How did the dots correspond to the fantastic sound that Drudge had transmitted to her? Reminded of the force of it, the horrors of her situation receded slightly. Carefully, she turned to the final page and murmured the lines that had defeated her earlier.

She drank in the words, determined to be more patient this time.

There, the book ended.

She took a deep breath, relaxing her gaze, and looked at the first line again.

The letters floated in her mind and began to settle into their true order. “All orbs … held here … in captivitee …”

Orbs. Like the three she’d seen in her dreams. They represented the triplets, she was sure—but
all
orbs? What did that mean? Perhaps the next line would clarify it.

“
Lyre easeth ben bedows foure het
. Rely … No. Release … thy … thy bondes …”

“What’s that you’re muttering, Jemma? Some sweet candlelight invocation, perhaps?”

Startled, she looked up. Feo stood at the cell door, holding a candle that he set down next to the stub Drudge had left.

“Feo!” Jemma hastily tucked the book under the straw. “I … didn’t hear you coming.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so engrossed in whatever it is you’re trying to hide, you would have.” He looked strangely calm, his features soft in the candlight. “You look nice in my sister’s dress,” he said. “It suits you. What a pity she had to go and tear it.” He reached through the bars and brushed his fingers along Jemma’s bare shoulder.

Jemma shrugged off his hand, struck by how much he now resembled Nox, as well as her own father. “What are you doing here, Feo?”

“How about you show me what you were reading? Then I’ll tell you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? And it came from where? Mama and Shade just searched your cell. I saw with my own eyes.”

“It’s … just … something I found upstairs in the Lush Chamber. I hid it. By magic.”